


Called Upon In The Morning

by afteriwake



Series: bathe my soul in colours [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flowers, Language of Flowers, Mornings, Soul Bond, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5900167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after they meet and both see the colour blue for the first time, Mycroft visits Anthea at Lord Ashcroft's home with a special arrangement of flowers and a proposition for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Called Upon In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> So I have _finally_ updated this series, after ignoring it for so long. I had gotten a drabble prompt from an anonymous tumblr user that was " _Mycroft/Anthea – Victorian era – 3_ " but instead of writing a drabble i wrote a full length fic, so...hope you enjoy!

He was rather nervous. He had never expected to need to court someone; he knew there were those who were never fortunate enough to find their soul mate, and as the years had passed for him he had thought himself to be among them. He was now nearly two and forty, well past the age when most men had married and had at least one child, if not more. His mother had despaired of him finding anyone at this rate.

To have found the woman to cause him to see the colour blue was remarkable indeed.

He had gone to the Diogenes Club expecting another night of dreary conversation and endless one-upmanship among his compatriots when he had spotted her. He had thought nothing of her, at first, just giving her the most fleeting of glances, and then he turned back to Phillips and saw that his cravat was not black, as he had supposed. Instead, it was a different hue, a dark shade of blue. That was when he had known.

He had turned back to the man and only then had he paid attention. Really, her disguise had been quite well crafted, if it had caused him to give her nothing more than a cursory first glance. But as he studied her carefully he saw the small signs that she was, indeed, a woman. It had been his thought that it would be best to get her out of the club and away from potential trouble. It was as he got closer that he recognized her, beneath the fake hairpiece and fake moustache, as the female houseguest at Lord Ashcroft’s residence and the reason for her visit had all fit into place, one piece of the puzzle fitting smoothly in with the rest. Yes, best to spare her any trouble, get her out of the club without making a fuss.

The Shakespeare recitation, however…well, that he supposed he could blame on an unbeknownst to him romantic streak. But then again, it was not every day one realized that they did, indeed, have a soul mate. And certainly not one with the pluck to don the trappings of the opposite sex to ferret out information to aid a man that they had fond feelings for of a fatherly nature, or that was what he had heard their relationship was like.

The woman who had introduced herself to him as Anthea was much a mystery to him.

One, he realized, he would like to opportunity to solve, if given the chance to do so.

And so he was at Lord Ashcroft’s residence the next morning, a carefully picked arrangement of flowers in hand. He was not sure if Anthea was versed in the language of the flowers, but each of the blooms had meaning. Even the leaves interspersed among them had something to say towards this woman who, he had found when he had tried to sleep last night, had captivated him.

He was seated in the parlour and after a moment she came down in a yellow dressing gown. He was, for a brief moment, disappointed it was not blue. They were not chaperoned, which he found to be a surprise; she must be older, then. A woman of the world in most people’s eyes. Perhaps a young widow, past the time of wearing mourning colours? She looked young, though. Not so young as a babe fresh out of the schoolroom, but not older than himself. He stood and bowed at the waist before presenting her with the flowers. “For you,” he said.

She gave him a small smile and took them, bringing them to her nose and inhaling the scent. She shut her eyes and her smile grew wider and he found he was entranced. She had quite a lovely smile. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

He nodded. “You did not give me a last name, so I’m afraid I must refer to you by the name you have given me, but you are most welcome, Anthea.”

She sat down and he did the same. She laid the flower arrangement on her lap, studying it. “Pink and lavender roses, blue violets, snowdrop and ivy geranium,” she said with a nod. “And are these maidenhair fern leaves?”

He nodded. “They are.”

“You’re sending me quite a message, Mr. Holmes,” she said. “You admire me and are enchanted by me, as the roses show. You have hope that this will be a fortuitous encounter, as indicated by the snowdrops. The violets are for love and faithfulness. The fern leave hint at secrecy, and the ivy geranium…I believe that is for asking for my hand at the next dance?”

“You’re quite astute,” he said, visibly impressed.

“Well, the language of the flowers is all the rage,” she said, fingering the violets. “Do you believe you love me?”

“It was more the faithfulness aspect of the message I wished to convey,” he said. “But I picked them especially because they were blue. I thought you would enjoy a flower in a colour you can now see.”

Her smile got brighter at that. “That was a very good choice, Mr. Holmes.” She looked up at him. “I would be honoured to let you have a dance, but I haven’t been invited to any of the soirees of the ton. I don’t move in those circles.”

He nodded. “With the Diamond Jubilee in less than a week’s time, I have many invitations. I would like for you to come with me, if you would like, to any of the festivities of your choosing. I can arrange with Lord Ashcroft to get you invitations, and suitable attire, if you cannot get it on your own. And there is a secondary reason, at least, that he might approve of.”

She tilted her head. “Oh?”

“Information I gathered is that there may be attempts to sabotage the festivities. The more events you attend beforehand, the more information you can gather. And attending with me is the perfect cover.”

“So it is not your entire attention to court me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Who says I cannot do both things at once?” he asked. “After all, you are a woman who captivated my attention by concealing yourself as a man to get answers. I appreciate the desire to do what is best for Queen and country. It…does things for me.”

She looked at him for a moment before her grin took on a slightly wicked slant. He, in turn, found it to be rather intriguing as opposed to off-putting. “I see. Well, then, Mr. Holmes. I suppose there will quite a few events filling up our social calendars these days.”

He felt a grin form on his own face at that. “I look forward to it.”


End file.
